


Weekend at the Symphony

by tehJai



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut, overworked soldiers trying to act civilian, pegging is coming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-08-29 07:38:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16739827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehJai/pseuds/tehJai
Summary: Two Imperial transplants, after years fighting for House Thul in Alderaan's civil war, are forced into a romantic vacation on Nar Shaddaa.  With someone else's credits to burn, the pair engage in things best kept under wraps on a planet known for its hedonism.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DT Maxwell (Draya)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draya/gifts), [JeanSchramme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanSchramme/gifts).



Normal working days at the HQ of 1 Thul Light Infantry often consisted of long stretches of planning time, even with retirement looming; where the Colonel would pace a little in front of a large terminal display, occasionally pausing his movement in order to pull up another figure or holo and where the Major would be curled up into a workstation chair, caf mug in one hand while she checked and double-checked the day’s numbers.  They were both once in the Imperial Army, but now they fought in the Alderaanian Civil War, which was ostensibly still ongoing. It was not a dynamic war by any means.

 

Normal working days did not often feature the large, rotund figure of Grand Marshal Dallaire,  waltzing on in from the coast. The large man strode straight into their operations centre and walked up to Roger, giving him a friendly clap on the back that resonated enough to make Tiona look up from her caf.

 

“Colonel.” The man’s grin was broad even as Roger arched an eyebrow and surreptitiously rubbed at his shoulder.  Spreading his arms wide, Dallaire leaned over and winked at Tiona. “You’re going on leave.”

 

“Sir?”  It wasn’t quite clear as to whether or not the Colonel was wheezing, but Roger’s voice did sound a little higher than usual.

 

“In fact, you’re going on leave _right now_ .  You too, my darling Major.  The shuttle’s prepped and ready for you.  I believe the two of you enjoy Nar Shaddaa, don’t you?  Might be a bit of a fun ride, but we’ve got your clearance worked out and you ought not to run into any problems.  Just remember, if you do something stupid, don’t get caught, eh? You still work for us for a few weeks yet.” The Marshal’s belly-laugh made the datapads on Tiona’s desk jiggle a little bit, and she slowly placed one hand out to stop their clicking against the surface.   


Dallaire was a jovial, agreeable man, and it was a very rare occasion when either of the two mercenaries, now long since part of House Thul proper, found themselves flat-footed and unable to speak in front of him.

 

For once, it was Tiona who spoke first: “Awfully kind of you, Sir, but … why?”  Then, suddenly, it was her turn to almost go nose-first into her terminal as Dallaire strode forward to clap a hand on _her_ shoulder.

 

“Because you work too damn hard, and you’ve been on the same page as the rest of us for _years_ , you ought to _act_ like it.  Consider it a happy retirement gift from those of us in Thul who’re happy that you pushed so hard against Rist.  Have a vacation! Enjoy yourselves!” He chuckled merrily, winking down at Tiona. “I also heard that the Kaas Symphony Orchestra is on tour there.  You’ve a private box and everything!”

 

Roger arched an eyebrow.  Several of the other staff members were now _staring_ .  Dallaire most certainly did not have what normal sentients would call _an indoor voice_. “We can’t very well accept that kind of personal favour, Sir --”

 

“Ah, it’s not a favour.  It’s a gift! And one well-deserved.  I’ll not hear any protests from either of you: I want you out of uniform - and don’t bring any of it _with_ you, either of you -  and on that shuttle within the hour. You can have it serve as a very belated honeymoon.”  The large man strode off and out of the room, chuckling heartily.

 

A few moments of silence ensued, where Roger’s pacing had come to a halt and Tiona just sort of slowly unfolded herself from her chair, sipping solemnly at her caf.

 

Once again, it was the Chiss who spoke first:  “Did we just get _told_ by the nobility?”

 

All she got in response was a deep, heavy sigh.

 

\--

 

“Y’know, I still can’t tell if they like us, or if this is all a giant ploy to have us killed. Forced early retirement.”  Tiona shifted her overnight pack from one shoulder to the other, her free hand drumming a rhythm on the handle of her wheeled suitcase.  By and large, she enjoyed Nar Shaddaa as a place to get away every once in awhile, to cast aside her hamfisted attempts at genteel behaviour and the day to day stresses of helping run a war effort.

 

This time, however, the Chiss looked vaguely horrified, and her husband looked firmly amused by it.  Roger grinned as Tiona looked up, frowning.

 

A relatively unassuming jump-transit, clearing of planetary customs, and a rather hair-raising local taxi ride had brought them to an incredibly opulent hotel mere minutes from the Promenade, in what passed for a high-end arts sector on Nar Shaddaa.  The main doors were surrounded by plush, purple curtains trimmed in gold, and the clientele inside were all dressed stylishly, being seen to by plucky, uniformed valets and housekeepers. Upbeat strains of low-tempo glimmik music were playing, and there was already a crowd visible in the cantina by the lobby.  There was even a red carpet leading from the taxi stand to the threshold of the door. It was so high-class it bordered on stereotypical. As though someone had distilled all of the pomp and circumstance of Alderaan and placed it in the giant vat of debauchery that was the Smuggler’s Moon.

 

“Oh, come now, this is _hardly_ the place for an assassination attempt.”

 

“If they’re trying to kill me, this is _exactly_ where they’d put me.”  Tiona took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.  “It’s where I’d put me.” She stuck her tongue out at him.  “Speaking of things that’ll kill you - think you’ll be alright not working for a few days?”

 

Roger almost sighed, but it turned to a chuckle halfway through.  “I think we’ll both survive. Besides, we’re spending someone else’s money.”

 

“That’s the best way to do it, isn’t it?”  Squaring her shoulders, she grabbed her suitcase handle and began to walk down the red carpet to the entrance, holding her head high and doing her best impression of a dignified strut.

 

It may not have been effective, but something about it seemed to distract her husband, and after walking a few paces and realizing he wasn’t in step with her like he normally was, she looked back over her shoulder and quirked an eyebrow.  “Stop staring at my ass and let’s go check in.”

 

He turned slightly red in the face, but merely winked at her before following her through the curtains and the door.  “You know,” he said quietly, resting a hand against it as they went and giving the slightest of squeezes, “it’s probably one of the better looking things around here.”

 

\--

 

Their valet was a Mirialan man, with coiffed blonde hair and a brilliant smile and with the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone to reveal an oiled, muscular chest.  Pinned to the front of his deep red suit jacket was a nametag that read “Tongo” in block-letters. The pin was crafted in the shape of a starblossom -- that was the name of the hotel, he told them, named as such for its owner, who just so happened to be a rather wealthy Alderaanian noble from House Thul (“Of _course_ she was,” Tiona had whispered to Roger as they ascended in the elevator, rolling her eyes while he fought not to laugh) with a fondness for her home planet’s native foliage.  Tongo, in all his muscular, greasy glory, had the manner of a used-speeder salesman, slick and a little _too_ friendly.

 

He also seemed extremely fixated on detailing to them all of the amenities that their provided room had.

 

“And I’m telling you both,” Tongo went on, teeth flashing in the mirrored panelling of the elevator, “that this penthouse suite is _incredible_ .  Makes for a _very_ romantic kinda weekend getaway.  The symphony? Kriffin’ romantic, man.  Good job.” He turned around and looked them both in the eyes, his smile a little fixed.  “Anything you’d need’ll be in there. And I mean _anything_.”  And then he winked, waggling his eyebrows at both of them.  “Be perfect for a solid week of layin’ in bed and kriffin’ till you can’t anymore.”

 

He was met with utter silence as the elevator continued.  Tiona and Roger just stared back at the Mirialan with stony expressions, but he seemed to either not be aware or to be actively ignoring their dour faces.  He continued:

 

“I mean, it’s sorta _obvious_ that’s what you two are here to d--”

 

The lift came to a halt, and before Tongo could edge himself out with all the baggage, Tiona strode forward and slapped the man in the back of the head, just once.  He cried out, tripping out of the elevator and falling to his knees, the bags tumbling from his large arms to scatter across the floor in front of the penthouse door.  


She stepped calmly out of the lift, over Tongo’s prostrate form, and walked over, picking up one of Roger’s bags and turning back to face him.  He was still wearing his stern expression, but as he met her eyes, she noticed the corners of his mouth working slightly, as though the human was suppressing a grin.

 

The blue woman, however, smiled broadly.  “Do me a favour, _darling_?” The Chiss pitched her voice high, a reasonable facsimile of the genteel phrasing of nobility.

 

He, too, stepped past Tongo, to take the bag she held from her hands, fingers brushing gently against hers.  “Of course, love.” His lips pressed to her cheek, a brief and soft gesture, before turning to regard the Mirialan valet still on his knees.

 

Tiona’s smile did not falter.  “I believe he’s got the keys to that room.  You know. The one that has _everything_?”  She kept the false pitch in her voice, watching as Tongo finally picked himself up, adjusting his suit as he stood.

 

“Ah.  Yes, of course.”  Roger strode toward Tongo and the valet flinched backward against the lift doors, holding the keys out in one hand.

 

“If -- if you need anything, sir, please don’t hesitate to comm down to me.  Just -- don’t let her --”

 

Roger looked back at Tiona, who was standing with the rest of the luggage, still grinning.  She lifted a hand and waved at Tongo, who now looked wholly afraid, even as the keys were plucked from his hand.  “Oh,” said the human, clearly amused, “no, I _do_ think I’ll let her.  She tips well, you know.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Checked in, our stalwart pair get right to it.

The room was, as Tongo had promised, incredible, transparisteel walls bedecked with those same purple-and-gold plush curtains, though most of them were pulled back to offer a very breathtaking view of the Promenade in all its neon glory.  It was an open-concept suite, with a sitting area, overlarge bed and an inlaid tub in the far corner in addition to its standard refresher. This tub was already filled with steaming, scented water - starblossom scent, which appeared to be a recurring motif throughout the hotel.

 

Tiona had doffed her jacket and was already rummaging through the suite’s kitchen, conservator door thrown wide open.  “Well,” she said, plucking an apple from a bowl inside it and closing the thing with her hip, “that oily green shithead wasn’t kidding.  This room really does have everything.”

 

Taking a bite from her apple, she sauntered over to where Roger was standing at the foot of the bed.  There was a large chest placed there, and it was open. He was staring at whatever was inside, flushed a furious red and looking a bit flustered in a wholly uncharacteristic way.  “... oh, it certainly does,” he replied when she came level with him.

 

“Y’know, this isn’t the first time we’ve come around to this planet for - what was it he said?”

 

“I believe his phrase was ‘laying in bed and kriffing until we can’t anymore’.”  He smiled at her, face still red, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, nodding back to the chest.  “But in what galaxy does that involve a pair of  _ stun cuffs _ ?”

 

She took another bite of her apple, but stopped her chewing at his words.  “...what?” Glancing down, she saw the contents of the chest - stun cuffs were, indeed, therein, along with a vast selection of other accoutrements.  “Well. I suppose they did have to prepare for every eventuality, but --” Reaching into the chest, she picked up the stun cuffs, spinning them around the fingers of her free hand.  

 

“But?” Roger  _ fidgeted _ , and Tiona laughed softly before tossing the item back in the chest and closing its lid, sitting down upon it and reaching out a hand.  She did not, however, stop eating her apple, and she grinned up at him as she resumed chewing.

 

“But you and I both know we’re not given to props.  Y’know, sexy uniforms aside. Though, the Marshal wouldn’t let us bring  _ those _ .”  Leaning forward, she took his hand in hers, tracing a slow circle around his palm with her thumb while she polished off her fruit.  “D’you think you’ll get by like that, babe, for this weekend?”

 

He was still more than a little red in the face, but his expression turned from bafflement to a soft smile of adoration.  Stepping forward, he slowly combed his fingers through her hair, twining the steel-grey locks about his fingers, sighing softly.  “I believe I’ll get by, my love,” he said, his voice a low, growling whisper now straight in her ear, pressing against her so she could feel his cock straining at his pants,  “if you get on that bed.”

 

Squeezing his hand, Tiona grinned broadly, licking her lips.  She moved quickly to turn herself about, kneeling on the chest with her elbows up on the mattress.  For a moment, she half-rose as though to crawl atop the bed proper, but then she paused, looking back over her shoulder at her husband with a thoughtful gaze.  He merely smiled until she had her belt undone and tossed across the room - and that had him standing flat-footed, trembling slightly, his trousers now visibly tented by his cock.  She noticed, and shivered with expectation, her back arching slightly. Her teeth dug into her lower lip as their eyes met and held for a few long, silent, and wholly tense seconds. “Don’t tell me,” she said, fingers knotting in the covers, face furiously violet and ducked behind her shoulder, “that you can wait  _ that _ long?  Stars know, I can’t.”

 

He didn’t look away from her eyes, didn’t say much of anything except to give a low, wanton growl, pressing himself up against her and rocking his hips slowly, stooped a little against the chest.  His hands rested on her wide hips, fingers splayed against the exposed skin between the waistband of her trousers and the edge of her shirt. She could feel his hands shaking as he pulled them down to her knees, as he brought his fingers between her thighs to stroke languidly along her soaked folds, feeling her warmth and readiness, the physical manifestation of her own desire.  Her legs shook and she gasped heavily. “I suppose there’s truth to that,” he whispered, stepping back just enough to free himself from his own clothes, resting one knee on the chest as he pulled his erection from the front of his trousers. Reaching out with his free hand, Roger ran his fingertips across the back of her neck and then down to trace the curve of her spine and the pert roundness of her behind.  “But I can wait long enough for you to turn over so I can  _ look _ at you.  Please.”

 

She was on her back immediately, panting, grinning up at him as his eyes took in the view of her from the front.  For a moment, she squirmed noticeably underneath him as she maneuvered her way out of her top, the control fabric clinging to the ample swell of her breasts.  They swayed slightly with each quickly-drawn breath, and as she pulled the shirt away, they swung free and she let out a sigh of relief. She rarely dressed in that manner; in the form-fitting tops that left precious little to the imagination.  It was enough to have him step back, taken with the sight of all her curves, and she took the moment to scramble fully upon the bed. “You’re looking at me,” she said, a tremor in her voice as she parted her thighs and crooked a finger at him.

 

He made no effort to undress any further, merely hopping over the chest and onto the bed, grinning. “I am.  And you’re rather beautiful.” He knelt before her, his hand only briefly dipping down to guide his cock inside of her.  Her eyes were locked on his, wide and luminescent, and she did not avert her gaze as they came together. A smile fell over his face and he leaned down to kiss her neck before straightening back up and finally setting to work.  He began to thrust slowly into her, grinning as she let out a sharp, pleased cry and laid her head backward into the pillows to savour the deep, leisurely pace he set. 

 

Lifting her head, she fixed him with her broad, brilliant, and wholly wicked white grin.  “Sure. We’re both very good-looking people,” Tiona whispered, gasping softly as he leaned over her again, brushing her hair away from her shoulder, his teeth grazing her earlobe.  “Figure that’s why we might go  _ out _ later.”  She waggled her eyebrows.  “But for now, d’you think we should take that oily bastard’s advice?”

 

“Well,” Roger said, breath hot in her ear and cock throbbing inside her,  “we’ve already started. It wouldn’t do for us to stop now.”

 

\--

 

They didn’t quite stop at all after that; the floor around the bed became littered with garments, one of Tiona’s boots had ended up draped over the inert bedside lamp, and they’d gone at it with a certain degree of enthusiasm until the bedside chrono indicated it was well into the evening.  

 

The two soldiers lay atop the bed covers, sweaty, sated, and smiling.  Tiona lay on her side, Roger curled around her, embracing her from behind, nuzzling at her neck.  She shifted slightly, onto her back, pulling him close. “And here I thought being away for three straight days would drive you mad.”  Her fingers traced idly along the scars on his chest and she smiled her brilliant and wicked grin up at him.

 

With a slight chuckle, he too rolled over so that they faced each other, with him half-draped over her where she lay.  He placed a hand around one of her thighs, wrapping her leg about his waist, shamelessly cuddling against her, pressing his lips to the top of her chest.  “My love, we’ve not even  _ begun _ this, ah --”

 

“Vacation?”  She scrunched up her nose, giggling as he lifted his head, with his brow quirked in her direction.  His mouth began to open as though he was going to continue speaking, and then there was a knock at the door.  Tiona’s eyes went wide, and then down at both of them: each completely naked, with their clothes strewn about and their suitcases not even unpacked.

 

“We noticed you did not order  _ dinner _ \--”  The sing-song voice was familiar, and a little high-pitched with fear.

 

Roger hefted himself onto his elbows with a sigh, looking down at Tiona.  He managed to maintain a grave, serious look for all of five seconds before his eyes wandered - just slightly - enough to make him grin at her.  “Tongo?”

 

“Tongo.”

 

The knocking continued.  Tiona raised a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, but then she, too, was grinning.  “He’ll keep doing this, I imagine, until we make him regret it.”

 

“Yes, that tends to be typical in establishments such as these --”  He turned as though to climb off the bed and find something to make him at least partially decent in his suitcase, but the Chiss just hooked her leg around his waist even tighter, pressing two fingers to his lips.

 

“We should tell him to come in.  Don’t move. And don’t look at me like that.  Besides, after what he suggested, he should be expecting this.”  Her grin got broader, and she ran her tongue over her teeth, a wholly mischievous expression.  “He’ll either be horrified, or wishing he was either of us. Y’know, depending on how he rolls --  _ come in _ !” she called, the sudden loudness of her voice making Roger blink a few times.

 

“You really  _ are _ shameless,” he said, a satisfied smile on his face.

 

The thunk of silverware as Tongo rounded the corner and came upon them was similarly satisfying.  So too was the look Roger gave the Mirialan when he moved to get a high-five.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just want an audience. Things get real saucy here.

For breakfast, at least, it seemed Tongo had learned his lesson.  No room service had arrived, and Tiona had been elbows-deep in the conservator as soon as she’d gotten up. They’d had toast and fried nerfsteak strips and fruit salad for breakfast.  Easy, balanced, and filling. Tiona doubted she’d be doing much to need a second meal in a couple of hours.

 

The first full day’s itinerary was loose; there were reservations at Stalk and Blade (Dallaire  _ had _ to have known Tiona’s connection to the proprietor) for later that evening but nothing planned for the day.   They were both familiar with the touristy sights of Nar Shaddaa and didn’t feel up to pissing creds away at a casino, so by the time noon rolled around they were lounging on the sofa in front of the holovision, which was tuned to the round-the-clock news station.  Neither of them were paying it much mind; Tiona was laid down on one end, nose-deep in a terrible flimsi-back romance novel that a prior tenant had left behind, some local fiction about an attractive Cartel underboss seducing a member of the security forces. It was full of terribly hamfisted descriptions of gunfights and lovemaking alike, and every so often she would turn a page and snort.

 

“You should  _ really _ read this when I’m done,” she said, lifting a foot and poking Roger in the ribs with her bare toes.  “It’s  _ awful _ .  Might be right up your alley.”

 

He glanced up at her - he was curled up on the other end of the couch and had his attention similarly focussed on a crossword on his datapad - and rubbed his stylus along the sole of her foot.  She squealed, trying to twist herself away from the ticklish sensation, but her other foot was tucked behind his back and she couldn’t quite move.

 

“That is so  _ sneaky  _ \--”

 

He chuckled.  “Quite.” He lifted her foot into his lap, resting his datapad on her shin.  “So. Six letters, third letter  _ S _ , meaning ‘be resolute’.”  The stylus was tapped against his lips while he mulled it over.  “Ideas?”

 

Laying the book against her chest, she looked up at him with that furrow between her brows that she always got when all her attention went to processing one thing.  “Insist?”

 

“Hm.”  He smiled at her, inputting the solution and tossing the pad on the cushioned ottoman, leaning back.  “So it is.”

 

“Had to get help on a six-letter word.”  She lifted her book back up, sticking out her tongue and rubbing her thumb against it before turning the page.   You’re losing your touch, babe.”

 

“That is most certainly  _ not _ what you were thinking this morning.”

 

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.  Tiona laid her book back down on her chest and let out a dramatic groan.  “Is this  _ really _ how rich and important people spend their spare time?  Being harassed by greasy valets?”

 

“Well, we’ve not  _ seen _ him for a while, thanks to your stunt.”  He patted her leg.

 

Tilting her head, she stuck her tongue out at him playfully.  “I think he was just struck dumb by your  _ fantastic _ ass.”

 

“It’s wonderful you think so highly of it, my love.”

 

“Hey.  I call it like I see it.  And believe me. I see it.  Very grab-worthy.” She craned her neck, looking toward the door as another knock came.  “Speaking of  _ insist _ , I think one of us is going to have to go and answer that.  Ditch the trousers and take one for the team.” 

 

Roger let out a bark of laughter before gently disentangling himself from her and getting to his feet, keeping all his clothes in place.  “I’ll spare us both the indignity. Be right back.”

 

Nodding, she picked up her book again and went back to reading. After a fashion she heard him return, setting down a covered tray on the coffee table. It was of moderate size, covering up most of the table’s surface area.  Tiona wrinkled her nose as she sat up, stowing the book -- whatever was under there was a bit briny and she could smell it. When she took off the cover, she couldn’t quite keep herself from dissolving into giggles.

 

“It’s kriffin’ Zeltronian shellfish.  That son of a Hutt.”

 

Roger blinked slowly.  “I don’t quite understand --”

 

“Yeah, this is an  _ aphrodisiac. _ ”  She wrinkled her nose again, a momentary look of distaste falling over her face, but then shrugged and lifted a shell to her mouth.  “Or at least, that’s what they say.”    
  
“And you just dive right in.”  He was watching her, intently, as though expecting her to toss the shell over her shoulder and jump him without preamble, right there on the couch.  She did toss the shell - although it landed in the upturned tray cover - and grabbed another one. Two, actually; one in each hand and she looked back up at him with a broad grin.

 

“It’s free food,” Tiona said.  “And I’m  _ pretty _ sure it’s all a myth.”  She made quick work of both of the shells and gestured to the platter.  Roger smirked and strode over to sit beside her on the couch, finally helping himself.

 

“...not bad,” he said.  

 

“Worth the risk, isn’t it?”  She kept eating, pausing every so often to waggle her eyebrows at him suggestively.  “I mean, not that either of us is in danger. What’s the worst thing you’re gonna do?  Fuck me?”

 

He looked slightly put out, furrowing his brows slightly.  “Well, I’d hardly call that a  _ worse _ thing…”

 

“Exactly.”  She leaned over to kiss him, even though they both tasted like brine and shellfish, an odd flavour that made her chuckle.  The two of them both, in stereo, licked their lips. The seafood  _ was _ rather salty, after all.  “And if it helps, I want you now as much as I did before I knocked back six of these things.”  

 

“Is  _ that _ so?”  

 

Tiona was blushing again, the sort of reaction that only he could elicit in her.  “Mhm,” she said, abandoning the shellfish for now and turning herself on the couch so that her entire body was angled toward his.  “So I think I’m good. How do you feel? Different?” She inched forward, little by little, reaching until she had her hands resting on his thigh and she was able to rest her chin on his shoulder.

 

Roger laughed.  “Hardly. I find I’m in the same situation as you are.”  He ducked his head, momentarily nuzzling her hair before straightening up and reaching for another one of the shellfish.  “But these  _ are _ of decent quality.”   
  


For a moment she seemed perplexed that he didn’t take the bait, but she shrugged and rose from the couch, walking around the table and finding herself another pair of shellfish from the far side of the platter.  She downed them in rapid succession and sent the shells pinging into the tray lid. Stepping back around the table, she stood in front of Roger and  _ loomed _ .

 

He looked up at her, an easygoing grin falling over his features in a way it never did beyond closed doors, and leaned back on the couch, eyebrow quirked in her direction.  “You’ve a mind to prove Tongo  _ right _ , haven’t you?”  It wasn’t exactly a criticism; there was marked arousal and devotion both behind his gaze, and his striking green eyes looked her up and down.

 

“I have a mind,” she said, nudging his knees apart with her own, leaning over to stare him down, “to take advantage of the situation we’ve found ourselves in.”

 

“Being fed by a greasy Mirialan?”  Roger’s grin grew wider, and his hands braced against her hips, giving a little tug to bring her into his lap.  

 

Tiona resisted for a moment, her face flushed an even deeper purple.  She took a few deep breaths, eyes locked on him, and after a few seconds’ silence she spoke.  “Not exactly,” she said, finally settling down, pushing him further back into the couch as she straddled his waist.  “Consider all the times we'd go to bed at HQ. Consider all those terribly appealing things you'd whisper in my ear when we’d make love as quietly as we could manage. Consider that, here, where nobody knows us? We can actually do them.”   
  


He’d let out a soft growl when she’d sat down, her thighs snug against his waist, and took her hands in his, lifting one and pressing his lips against her knuckles, eyebrow quirked as he stared into her eyes.  “I suppose, then, you’ll have to get dressed.” He did not seem to be inclined to let her get away - he dropped her hands and grabbed for her hips again, gently rocking against her.

 

“Do I --”  She stopped, groaning softly at the contact, a shiver down her spine -- “do I have to?”  

 

“If you want me to  _ take _ you in front of everyone,” he growled, his voice muffled, “then yes.  You’ll  _ have _ to.”  His lips trailed along her throat, planting a line of kisses in their wake.  His hands roamed north, reaching under the back of her shirt, calloused fingertips brushing against her warm skin, smiling up at her knowingly as she shivered again, his touch this time apparently rousing her nipples to fullness such that they strained at her shirt. 

 

Tiona gasped sharply, a loud sound for her, and suddenly leapt off the couch, striding toward one of the tall windows, panting slightly. “We don't have to go far,” she said, her voice trembling.  She opened the curtains to the noontime goings-on of Nar Shaddaa. 

 

Watching her generous hips swaying as she went, and suddenly aware of how tight his pants seemed to be after drinking in the sight, Roger couldn't help but moan when he watched Tiona strip, entirely methodically and with little regard for how it looked. He was on his feet before he knew it; standing in front of her with the window behind. 

 

She turned around and pressed herself to the glass, her arms above her head and bracing herself. “I want anyone who looks to  _ see _ ,” Tiona hissed. Her eyes seemed to glow a bit brighter as she stared at Roger over her shoulder,  “and I'll keep my hands right here… “ 

 

The sky lanes were close. He watched a few drivers notice the gloriously nude Chiss posing in the window. At the speed they were going, though, no spectator had time to do much more than try to look again. 

 

He absconded with his shirt, tossing it back into the room, and fumbled with his belt and zipper for a moment. His erection was prominent, his thick cock arcing upward. As he strode forward, a drop of precum ran down the length of him. He had nothing too extravagant, but after all these years such small details didn’t matter - Roger knew what he was capable of, and more to the point, he knew exactly what she’d be able to make him do to her. Tiona’s eyes lit on the sight of him handling himself, and her next needy moan left him throbbing. 

 

“Give them something else to look at,” she hissed, waving her hips teasingly at him. “And give  _ me  _ all of  _ that.  _ Just like  _ this.” _

 

Roger breached the distance, settling himself against the curve of her ass and reaching a hand around to run fingers against her folds, thumb flicking against her clitoris. Tiona bucked against his hand, her arms still not moving, and as he pulled it away it was soaked. Giving an affirmative growl, he stroked himself a few times, spreading her juices over his cock. 

 

Before he could do much more, she locked eyes with him and spoke in a  _ very _ authoritative tone. 

 

“Fuck me  _ hard _ .” And she reached behind her, placing fingertips against his shaft and guiding him inside her. Her legs trembled as he pushed forth, any resistance eliminated by how drenched she was.  He let out a whimper as he felt himself be buried in her shockingly warm and wonderfully tight body. 

 

Roger grinned, stepping forward to push Tiona - though gently - further against the window. Leaning forward, his lips came close to her ear. His whisper was strained, his breathing heavy, and his voice was thick with desire. “ _ How _ hard, my love?”

 

Her response was to shudder from head to toe, straining backwards against him. “Try me.”

 

That seemed to  _ wake _ something in him. Perhaps the tale about the shellfish was true, he thought briefly before surging against her, hands gripping her wide hips rather roughly before he slammed himself forward into her, a wanton growl escaping his lips. There was no slow buildup this time; Roger immediately set to work finding a quick, deep rhythm, pressing Tiona’s body against the glass again and again. 

 

She had her cheek pressed against the window, too, arms still held above her head, wrists side by side as though she was tied up.  Her eyes were half-closed, clearly enjoying the situation she’d put them in. She looked as pleased as he remembered her being decades ago, when they’d needed to be discreet.   
  
Clearly all of  _ that _ was behind them both now.

 

Her hands were so still that all at once, and for the first time, he seriously felt a pang of regret at not having lashed them together, even loosely.  Perhaps something to try later, Roger thought, grinning as he watched Tiona writhe in full view of the sky lane, pressed against her, still pounding away at her. She was always rather quiet, her gasps and moans muted, but every once in awhile, if he moved just so, or touched her just right, he could make her get a little bit loud. His hands left her hips: one went round her waist and the other reached around to her front. 

 

His fingers found her swollen, hard clitoris at the apex of her still delightfully wet folds, and he rubbed against it, allowing it to rest between two digits such that he stroked it in time with the pumping of his cock.

 

“Show them how much you like it,” he growled. 

 

And Tiona  _ screamed,  _ her fingernails clattering against the glass as she threw her head back, her body shuddering both inside and out. She thrust backward to meet him, shamelessly fucking herself with his cock, allowing him to slow down and divert his attention to his fingers, still stroking at her. 

 

“Don't stop,” she whispered over and over again. “Fuck me harder.  _ Please _ .”

 

Roger wondered how much longer he could handle her tight heat and writhing, beautiful blue body before he lost control, before realizing that she was on the cusp, and he knew just what to do: exactly as she told him. Gritting his jaw, he absconded with propriety and civilized behaviour, his fingers stroking roughly and his hips slamming into hers. There was no resistance. He was as an animal behind her, and this seemed to just make her wetter, to make her implore him for more of it. He loved that she demanded it from him, that she had the measure of him when he was  _ not  _ in control and embraced it fully.  He slowed down momentarily, and Tiona grinned over her shoulder. She knew he would hold out for her. 

 

“Say it,” Tiona said between moans. A violent shudder went through her as she pushed back against him.  She lost her balance for a moment, managing to catch herself, sliding her arms down a couple inches, leaving streaks on the now-fogged windowpane. 

 

When she stumbled, he was there, resting firmly on his feet and lifting her away from the glass. His cock was still deep inside of her, but his hands moved to hold her up - the one between her thighs still rubbing quickly against her clitoris. He could feel her  _ pulse _ there, a frantic rhythm against her twitches and shudders. His other arm braced against her front, between her breasts, which swung back and forth against it while they kept pounding at each other in brief, distracted bursts. 

 

“Say it!” Tiona  _ yelled _ it with such impassioned force that Roger immediately complied. 

 

Anything, of course, for her. 

 

His hand went around her throat, just resting there, not squeezing, and he leaned toward her ear. His whisper wavered, the words a low, wanton growl. He  _ also _ knew exactly what she wanted him to say.  And he knew it worked like a charm. “Come for me, Ti.”

 

She  _ did _ , letting out a sharp keening noise, her entire body seeming to seize. He felt her grow wetter instantly, the physical manifestation of her pleasure gushing against his fingers. 

 

He moved his hands from her clitoris and her throat, holding her tightly against him, lips pressed against the back of her neck. Control left him in the wake of her climax and he could not go further, driving deep just one final time to finish inside of her.

 

The stars cleared from Roger’s eyes after a minute. Someone in the sky lane above them honked their horn. Tiona's body was warm against him, a comfort after sex, like it always was, but strangely heavy. Realization dawned, and the seasoned veteran was not quite prepared for it. 

 

He fought not to laugh. He was holding her up. And she was snoring softly, head lolled back against his shoulder. 

 

She didn’t stir, not even when he gently disengaged from her and he bent down to hoist her into his arms, bridal-style, and carry her into the bed.  He set her down, shucking his pants and climbing in beside her. Her face was turned toward him, her hair spread out to the side. If he hadn’t just been taking her roughly against that window moments before, he’d have denied it ever happened, she looked so peaceful and content. 

  
  
After a minute or two, she stirred.  “...babe.” A flash of a red glow caught Roger’s eye, Tiona’s eyes were just barely open, but she was staring at him, a small smile on her face.  “Anyone ever tell you -” She stretched her arms and gave a comically large yawn. “--that you’re incredible?” Her eyes opened wider and she sat up slightly, beckoning him to rest against her.

  
  
He laid his head on her breast, sighing contentedly against her skin.  “Am I?”

  
  
Tiona chuckled softly, lifting a hand to comb fingers through his hair.  “Yeah. You are. Best I’ve ever -- I mean, I  _ passed out _ .” 

  
  
“I noticed,” Roger said a bit wryly, rolling over to look at her, pressing his lips to her shoulder.  “You’re alright, though?”

  
  
She certainly looked it; still flushed a light purple, winding an arm around him and squeezing, a sated and happy smile on her face.  She offered an easygoing nod by way of response, then furrowed her brow and looked into his eyes. “Are you? I know that was a  _ touch _ outside your, y'know. Usual methods?”

 

“Well, one does need variety in their life.”  He shifted slightly, rolling onto his back, now pulling her atop him. “And of course, I love that you loved it.”

 

She went willingly, cuddling up to him, nuzzling at his neck. “Yeah, well, I love  _ you _ . You spoil me.”

 

“Well,” Roger said, grinning, his usual serious demeanour all but gone now in the wake of privacy, afterglow, and the comfort of her warm body draped over his, “that’s because I love you, too.”

  
  
“We gonna blame that on the shellfish?” Tiona lifted her head and tapped him on the nose.

  
  
He laughed, tapping hers in return.  “I think we’ll blame ourselves. This time.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh, it's on.

“You look great,” Tiona said to Roger later that day as they stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the refresher's mirror.

 

True to their word to Marshal Dallaire, the soldiers’ vacation wardrobe was completely devoid of any sort of dress uniform, beret, medal or badge. Still, though, Roger wore white in his suit. His tunic was embroidered with black patterns at the cuffs and at the split at the front of its high collar.

 

Tiona wore black to match, a long-sleeved, full-length evening gown. It, too, was high-necked, and was, at least at first glance, the most conservative thing she owned, although the long sleeves being made of lace, showing off plenty of blue skin with only a short bodice underneath for modesty belied that fact. So too was the slit in the side that went right up to her hip and showed off her entire shapely, muscled leg.

 

Roger frowned. It was perfectly in vogue (and paradoxically, _within regulations_ ) for Tiona to attend formal functions back on Alderaan in an evening gown (or better yet, he mused, for her to wear one of those skin-tight and brazenly short dresses she usually favoured), but for him, a civilian suit was something he hadn't donned in years. “It's a bit odd,” he murmured, running fingers through his hair, “not to be in uniform.”

 

Tiona walked behind him in an elegant swish of lace and silk, placing her hands on his shoulders. “It's a dry run, before we retire. We dress like vain, rich assholes and eat stupidly expensive food and nobody knows us to judge.”

  
“And you know the owner.”  Roger’s lips twitched in a brief, amused grin.  “I have the noble bearing, and you have the noble _connections_ .”

  
  
Tiona smirked, lifting on her tiptoes to lean over and plant a kiss below his earlobe while she reached for her silver drop earrings.  She lingered there for a moment, all but basking in his crisp, clean scent. “...that’s the last life day present I got you, wasn’t it?”

  
  
“You seem surprised that I’d use it.”  He leaned over to pick up his comb, drawing it back against his hair.  Tiona backed off, grinning.

  
  
“I’m just saying it smells better on you than in the bottle.  It’s like you’re a sexy forest.”

  
  
Roger burst out laughing, tossing his comb on the counter, turning to scoop her into his arms, kissing her on the cheek and whirling her around, ushering her out of the refresher.  “Come on, Major,” he said, trying and mostly failing to sound serious, “we’ll be late if we waste any more time.”

  
  
At that, Tiona squirmed out of his grasp, then braced her hands against the doorjamb.  He bumped against her backside. “What _aren’t_ we wearing, babe?”

  
  
“Hats,” he said dryly, pushing against her to get her to move.  She resisted, shaking her head, wiggling backward against him, a smirk spreading across her face as he growled under his breath, the contact rousing him just slightly.

  
  
“You’re _not_ gonna use my rank when we’re dressed like this,” she said, “or else--”  She was cut off as Roger leaned over to catch her lips with his, clearly intent on redirecting her either to their bed or out the door.  It worked; she ran a few steps out of the refresher, laughing softly as she went. She shrugged, sweeping her long hair over her shoulder and wandering off toward the bedroom.

  
  
For a brief moment, Roger wondered if they were going to make it to the restaurant. “Or else...?”  He looked, and she was still fully-clothed, pulling her suitcases out of the wardrobe.

  
  
“Or else that’s the only time I’m gonna let you touch me all night.”

  
  
“If I know you, dear,” he said, side-stepping past her and fetching their room keys from the desk near the door, “that might prove to be a bit of a challenge for you.”

  
  
Tiona laughed, reaching into her suitcase to pull out a tiny, palm-sized blaster pistol and a black clutch purse.  The weapon went in the purse and she smartly snapped it shut. “I don’t think it’s _me_ who’s gonna need to concentrate.”

 

“We _are_ about to have dinner,” Roger said a bit dryly, “so I suppose there’s truth to that.  I wouldn’t dare come between you and your most important love.”

  
  
Shaking her head, Tiona stuck her tongue out at him, reaching up to seat her earrings in.  “First of all, the food there is _great_ , and second of all --”  She paused, straightening up and letting out a huff.  “Well. I know damn well all I need to do is just sit there and eat my steak and bat my eyelashes…  Right, I can’t keep that up, babe. You know the score. Use rank, no squeezing my ass.” She put her hand squarely at the small of Roger’s back and gave a little push. “Let’s go.  Getting the consciousness fucked out of me makes me _hungry_.”

 

He laughed heartily, passing her a room key as he stepped out through the doorway, right hand rising awkwardly as though to put on a hat he was not carrying.  “... go on,” Roger said, stepping into the hallway and turning to face a very amused-looking Tiona, “tell me how predictable I am.”  


She pulled the room door shut, sliding her room key into her clutch, and smiled over at him.  “You are. Believe it or not, I love that about you.” She passed her purse from one hand to another, reaching out to lace her fingers through his as they waited on the lift.  “...you know we’re going to be doing this a lot more often, soon, right?”

  
  
Lifting his arm and gently turning her hand in his, he placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.  “Yes. It’s why I’m glad I’ll have you on my arm throughout all of it.”

  
  
“A blue bitch is a great conversation starter,” she said dryly, nudging Roger in the ribs when he closed his eyes and sighed at the lowbrow jab.  “Okay. I’ll behave.”

  
  
The lift doors opened with a melodious _ping_ , and Tiona glanced up at her husband.  He looked down at her, brow quirked, cheeks flushed, but a practised neutrality on his face.  As they stepped into the lift, she felt his hand curving down and around her hip before reaching to give her rear a quick squeeze.

  
“Truth be told, my love, I’d rather you didn’t.  But speciesism is terribly gauche.”

  
  
“It is, but you know damn well I’m right.”  She sidestepped a bit so that she was standing right behind him.  Her arms went around his waist and she rested her chin on his shoulder.

  
  
“Aren’t you going to smudge your makeup?” he said by way of deflection, leaning back against her with a happy sigh.

  
  
“What makeup?”  Smirking, Tiona batted her eyelashes in his direction.  She’d told him years ago that her subtle eyeliner was a tattoo and that she usually just wore lip gloss every once in awhile.  It was all she was wearing this evening. “I woke up like this.”

  
  
Roger opened his mouth to respond, but the lift slowed and stopped.  By instinct, Tiona moved to stand right beside him, though she did reach for his hand once more, squeezing it gently as the lift doors opened --

  
  
\-- to reveal the two metres of green, oily muscle poured into a suit that was Tongo, adjusting his nametag.

  
  
Tiona braced herself against the floor, her stance widening slightly,  Roger just pursed his lips against a grin and dealt his wife a long, questioning side glance.

  
  
“Good _evening_ ,” the Mirialan started in on his somewhat condescending butler performance as he shuffled into the lift, “and how are you both this eve --”  He finally got his nametag adjusted just the way he seemed to wanted, raising his head to come face to face with Tiona, her eyes narrowed into burning red slits.

  
  
Tongo said nothing, quickly turning around to face the elevator door, his entire body held tense.  From behind him, Tiona mimed clawing at the back of his head with her free hand, grinning broadly at Roger, who by now had his teeth firmly dug into his lip, jaw shaking as he fought not to laugh.

  
  
The two of them managed to make it to the lobby in silence, Tiona occasionally making rude gestures behind Tongo’s back and then looking to see Roger steadfastly staring at the ceiling as he continued to try not to laugh.  When the lift doors opened for the final time, Tongo went left, apparently content to never acknowledge Tiona’s existence; and the pair went right, to stand out on the hotel’s taxi platform.

  
  
Edging away from the other groups awaiting a ride, Roger reached into his pocket to produce a pack of cigarras and a lighter, offering one to Tiona.  She took it, and he lit it for her before tending to his own. “He probably thinks you’re going to kill him,” he said, leaning close to her after taking a drag.

  
  
She laughed, blowing smoke straight up.  “Stars, I really want to.”

  
  
“You are an _extremely_ violent and beautiful woman.”  Holding his cigarra well away from their faces, he kissed her gently on the cheek.

  
  
A wholly undignified snort left her, and she poked him in the stomach before stepping to the side to finish her cigarra before their taxi arrived.  “I’m not _actually_ gonna kill him, y’know.  For one thing, my stuff is still back up in our room.”

  
  
“One can never say you’ve not got your priorities straight.”  Roger stood off to one side, though he wound his free arm around her waist, and the two of them did their part to add to the ubiquitous pollution of the Smuggler’s Moon while they waited for their ride.

  
  
\--

  
  
Stalk and Blade was the sort of dining experience that one was not supposed to exist just off the Promenade.  Amidst the gaudy tourist-traps, and with a Zek’s Cheesesteaks stand next to where the taxi dropped them off, it was a very unassuming sort of place, its neon signage entirely stationary, making the place look relatively inactive and drab.

  
  
“Believe me,” Tiona insisted, “this place is incredible on the inside.  And … well.” She stood on the curb in front of the entrance, purse clasped between her hands, held behind her.  Her posture was akin to an extra-casual parade rest, until she took a deep breath and cocked her hip, turning toward Roger (and her black skirt moved just _so_ to show off all that leg). “As you said, I know the owner.  I have no idea how Dallaire figured _that_ out.”

  
  
He chuckled, coming level with her and offering her his arm.  “The man does his research. We _were_ put up in the VIP suites, after all.”

  
  
“And he makes reservations for Arty’s _classy_ joint.”  Tiona ducked her head, tucking her clutch under one arm and looping the other through his.  “I think he’s trying to turn us on to the kind of lifestyle _he_ leads.  And it’s still so -- weird.  But the food’s gonna be worth it.”

  
  
Roger patted her hand, leaning close.  “If they can see to _your_ appetite for the evening, that would be impressive.”

  
  
“Mhm,” she said agreeably, offering him one of her vivid smiles before she turned to push open the front doors.  Her arm slid from his and she reached out to take his hand, tugging him across the threshold playfully “If Dallaire’s done his research he knows that I go to a restaurant to kriffin’ _eat_ .”

  
  
They came upon a very understated but very classy dining room, in blacks and whites with warm lighting.  The restaurant was fairly busy, with very ostentatiously dressed Nar Shaddaa upper-class seated throughout the various tables and booths on offer.  Tiona gave a slight wave to the Nautolan hostess, who immediately looked up and grinned at the pair.

  
  
“Evenin’, Ti,” she said cheerfully.  “We’ve got the table ready for you!” She turned and dipped her head in Roger’s direction.  “And you too, of course, sir.”

  
  
He looked as amused as he did baffled, and simply nodded, smiling over at his wife, who had an arm wrapped loosely about his waist.  “Major, you seem to know everyone at this --” He paused when Tiona swiftly let him go and stood, hands clasping her purse behind her back once more, just far enough away from him so that they did not touch.

  
  
“I do,” she said pleasantly, smiling at Roger before motioning to the hostess.  “Please, after you.”

  
  
The Nautolan nodded and picked up a datapad, before setting off into the throng, toward the large, circular booths toward the back of the establishment.  Tiona turned toward Roger, a sheepish look on her face. “You know what you did,” she said, amused, but with just a tiny bit of disappointment in her expression.

  
  
“That I did, Tiona,” he replied, likewise clasping his hands behind his back as they followed the hostess.  “I suppose we’ll actually be eating tonight instead of making terrible naughty puns all evening.”

  
  
“Given that you just _lost_ , it’s probably for the best that we save that until we get home, at least.  I have _no_ intention of sneaking out early on this dinner.”  She held his gaze for a few seconds, waggling her eyebrows.

  
  
Roger sighed, a mirthful yet somewhat resigned smile on his face, though his green eyes didn’t stray from hers until the hostess was ushering them to sit side-by-side in front of a large table.  “Thank you,” he said politely, before turning to Tiona with a quirked eyebrow.

  
  
She was still grinning, her hands resting on the tabletop, fingernails tapping for a few seconds.  “But yeah, to answer your question, I know a lot of the folks at the restaurants. Arty’d feed me whenever.  Didn’t matter if I didn’t have credits. I like to return the favour a lot now that I actually have some.”

 

  
“You look after your friends,” he said gently.  “It’s an admirable quality, love.” He moved over in the booth, toward her.  He wanted to be close to her, but the game was afoot and so he stopped short of cuddling up beside her - still close, still obviously interested, but still playing along.

  
  
Tiona’s hands stilled, and she looked over at Roger, slightly flushed in the face.  “And my family. That’s the plan, anyway.” She pulled the menu toward the two of them.  “... you know that, right?”

  
  
“We’ll be looking after each other, all right,” he said.  “It’s a touch surreal. I honestly had never considered that I’d actually retire on my own terms, not after all the contracts.”  He rested his hand on the tabletop, near-but-not-touching hers, and leaned to resume looking into her eyes, smiling.

  
  
“It’s not too late to back out,” she said, “but I’ve made my mind up, so --”

  
  
He shook his head.  “So have I.”

  
  
“Good,” she whispered, her face still flushed, and she fidgeted a little in her chair, turning herself toward him, reaching her hand out on the table but likewise stopping short.  Small, subtle gestures, all certainly _communicating_ that both of them thought this game of theirs was silly, while each being just stubborn enough to keep the challenge going.  

 

Tiona cleared her throat.  “Wine? Steak? To be truthful, I come here for the ste -- oh.  I should ask if they have any of _our_ meat in stock.  Arty bought the entire first slaughter off of me, but she never told me which restaurant she used it for.  I bet I can ask.”

 

“Steak is just fine.  And something red, I suppose, to go with it.” Roger smiled at her - she was talkative, which usually meant there was _something_ on her mind.  “Is there something you want to talk about, my love?"

 

Tiona looked up from where she was inputting their orders.  “There is, but I imagine we’ll want to wait until at least we have our wine.”

  
  
“Is it that bad?” he inquired, laughing.  “Come now, say what’s on your mind.”

  
  
For a moment Tiona nodded, finalizing their order of steaks, sides, and red wine.  “It’s weird. I’m kind of glad I have an excuse to act a bit standoffish, and I’m glad we are _literally_ here in no-decor mode so I can try to be frank.  I’m just … bad at talking, ‘cause --” She motioned to Roger, who suddenly seemed entirely at ease --

 

Their game was put to the side, and he immediately drew closer, reaching for her left hand.  He held it in both of his, running his thumb against the pair of rings she wore -- one atop the other, the top one inlaid with a small solitary gem.  “Take your time,” he said gently.  
  
“So, this afternoon kind of got me thinking about things,” she said.  “Other things I’d like to try.” With a frown, Tiona winced visibly, a sharp inhale of breath.  She leaned back against the booth, squeezing his hand. "Are we...okay? I hope I didn't go too far --"

 

"You most certainly did not.  But there was plenty to consider."  Roger smiled, eyes locked on her face.  “I admit it got me thinking about what else we might want to try.”  
  
It was now Tiona’s turn to start quirking eyebrows, and her worried, flushed face split into a wholly excited grin.  “You too?”

 

“Since we’re being frank, my love, I’ve always admired your flair for the unique.”  He couldn’t help but match her expression, offering her a wide, unabashed smile. “So why don’t you tell me what you want?”  
  
Shaking her head, Tiona laughed, brushing her hair behind her shoulder.  “Nah. You first.” She paused. “...what if we just said it at the exact same time?”  
  
“Very well, my dear.”

 

She took a deep breath. “Count of three.  One, two, three --”

 

And then, at the same time, they spoke:  "D'you know what pegging is?"

  
  
Tiona froze for a few seconds before laughing softly, her face brightening.  “I am _such_ a coward.  I should have brought it up earlier, but -- to answer your question, I most certainly do.  And here I thought I’d have to sell you on the notion. It featured _heavily_ in my first marriage,” she said delicately, wrinkling her nose slightly.

 

"I figured an unorthodox arrangement such as the one I found you in probably included some unorthodox activities."  Roger smiled. “Would you fancy yourself good at it?”

 

That just made Tiona straight-up giggle, an oddly girlish sound.  “Yeah. Did you ever get a look at that box in the closet at home?”

  
  
“...perhaps.”  He looked a touch embarrassed, but her laughter cut right to the core of him, making him feel at-ease, and the embarrassment turned to curiosity mixed with a faintly growing undercurrent of arousal.

  
  
And then their wine arrived, served in a decanter with a generously large bread-basket.  Tiona smiled at the waitress - who didn’t seem to know her name, and immediately released Roger’s hand to dig into the basket.  Calmly, and silently, she retrieved a roll, split it and buttered it, taking a bite before continuing: "I brought it with me.  Just in case. Did you see one that you liked?"

 

Roger paused, letting out a breath.  Did she mean --? "My love, there were a dozen."

 

"There are seven.  We can go over them when I get back.  But back to selling you on this --"

 

"Of course."

 

"So I know that you dig it when I ... take the reins, when we're together.  I love doing it, but I can't get into that headspace if I'm - stars, I'm still trying to talk around corners and not be entirely filthy."

 

"Be filthy.  You know you don't need to put on airs for me, love.  I won't be scandalized."

 

"It's hard to be domineering when you've got a cock in you and it's making you see stars, y'know?  I mean, I try."

 

"I wouldn't ask for anything more."

 

"Right.  But if I were to put on a piece and give it to you - that would do it.”  She straightened up, smiling at him. “And I want you to get the kind of payoff you deserve.  For being good, I guess." Tiona winked and lifted her wine glass, red eyes sparkling with amused mischief as she watched Roger’s face flush all over again.

 

He squirmed visibly in his chair, slowly licking his lips.  The idea clearly appealed to him, and for a brief moment, he was unable to draw on his usual eloquence.  "Are you certain you want all three steaks?"

 

"I am.  I've committed to seeing this entire dinner through, especially now that it's turned out to be a _really_ interesting prelude to a _really_ interesting night.  So. We're going to eat this meal, and you're going to tell me exactly how you want me to fuck you.  And when we get back -- I'm gonna fuck you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and the Lord spake and said, "Tiona shall peg her human husband". ...weren't they supposed to go and do classy recreational activities?

The aforementioned case Tiona brought with her was rather nondescript; it looked like a black rifle case, although it was not of a standard dimension.  It was covered with decals from holiday destinations: Vaynai, Zeltros, and of course Nar Shaddaa. She laid it atop the chest they'd thrown the stun cuffs into.    
  
Completely unassuming, and yet, when he came out of the refresher (after she gave him rather detailed instructions and he’d spent close to an hour doing his best to fulfil them) and he saw her standing there, apparently still dressed in her lace-and-satin ensemble, he noticed it was open, and he felt a wave of nervous anticipation take him over. 

Tiona had combed out her hair, reapplied her lip gloss, absconded with her jewelry. He did notice that, underneath the translucent lace of her dress, she was wearing very low cut, but very sturdy underwear. 

A bit curious, as he knew she very rarely wore anything under her combat pants or short skirts. She smiled, sitting down on the chest and pulling the case toward herself as Roger drew level, clad in a bathrobe, still a bit damp from his shower. 

“So,” she said, curling long, callused fingers around his wrist, “these are the pieces.” 

He quirked an eyebrow, returning her smile, and she lifted herself so that she was kneeling on the bed and he was seated face to face with whatever contraptions were involved with enabling his wife to take him, and he cast his eyes upon the contents of the case. 

Sex toys weren't, until now, typically involved in  the Colonel's romantic repertoire. As such, his experiences were broad only; things seen on the holonet or on the shelf of a Shaddaa bodega. He was expecting absurd shapes and lurid colours.

Their shape was strange, clearly double-ended, but the shaft was noticeable and what he could only describe as understated. There were seven for a reason: some were smaller, larger, or girthier. Two of them had visible ridges. All of them cast in a colour that matched the wearer. They were clearly as well-crafted and as cared for as a beloved set of blasters. 

“One for every occasion, love?” he said after looking them over. 

Tiona had settled him down and let go of his wrist. She then smiled broadly, leaning to kiss him on the cheek, her gloss leaving a visible mark on his skin. “Generally, yeah. But I have had these two custom-made. These cater to, uh, pureblood Sith. Or people who're into that.”

“I doubt I'm brave enough to start out with those,” he admitted. Tiona's casual treatment of the whole scenario put him at ease; while his face was flushed red and the nervousness was still present, the anticipation of having her use one was rapidly taking priority in his mind. When Tiona chuckled, he felt his cock begin to stir. 

“I wouldn't let you anyway.” She leaned forward, her one hand grasping the lapel of his robe and the other reaching to untie its sash.  “The key to this is to start small and work your way up. Otherwise it’ll hurt and I’m not -- I’m not gonna do that to you.” Her eyes were locked on his and Roger didn’t dare look away, even as her hands gently ghosted over his body, down to his burgeoning erection.  The look in her eyes was rapt, attentive, as though she was searching for something. He let out a sudden, ragged gasp, and Tiona sat back, smiling, like she’d found whatever she’d been looking for. She reached back into the case to pick up the smallest of the toys, stepping off the bed and moving in front of the case once more.  “These have a bit of feedback in them,” she continued, pointing out the smaller end of the device, and then --

He watched, transfixed, as for a moment she took that smaller end and swept her skirts back, shifting one foot onto the edge of the chest. She spread her thighs and, with a slight, satisfied hum, seated her end entirely within herself.  The underwear she’d had on had an opening to allow his end to come through, the garment keeping everything oriented just so.   
  
“And what does that mean?”  Roger continued to stare, that lustful apprehension seeming to rush in on him, and his entire face grew flushed.  There was no need for him to maintain any kind of mask or facade, and he was determined to demonstrate to her just how much he wanted this, even if he had precious little idea what to expect.   
  
“It means that if you really wanted me to, I could get off doing this to you,” she said, smiling broadly and absconding with the skirt of her dress, stepping out of it as it pooled to the ground.  She stood for a moment in only the lace top and opaque black bodice before she pulled the latter off, the remaining lace doing absolutely nothing to hold or hide the swell of her voluptuous chest.   
  
He wanted to take her in his arms, to lose himself in her body and put his hands on her breasts, to suckle at her nipples until they pebbled in his mouth out of pleasure and she gave one of her quiet yet passionate moans. But he  _ knew _ she wouldn't let him.  “I  _ do _ want you to,” he said, his voice husky with need. “I couldn’t bear to see you not pleased…”   
  
“Oh, I am pleased,” Tiona said firmly, licking her lips before reaching into the case once more.  “Now. Get out of that robe and get on your back.” 

She emerged with an unlabeled plastoid bottle and stood there with it held in both hands, a very sly smile on her face. 

And Roger hadn't moved at all; still staring at her with his jaw slightly agape. He was looking her up and down, eyes lingering on the piece now snugly protruding from the odd undergarment he now understood to be a harness. “Should I --”

The novelty of the whole situation certainly had the aged soldier temporarily unable to do or say much. He had questions, certainly, and he was so hard by now that the bathrobe did nothing at all to hide it. In a rare turn of events, Roger was utterly speechless. 

The bottle was tossed onto the bed and Tiona strode forward, standing between his knees, reaching to take his hands in hers. Her smile went from sly to reassuring, and she looked down at him. “Are you nervous?”

He blinked, looking up at her with a soft expression of awed adoration. “I am.”

“That's alright, y'know. Do you want me to stop?” Her domineering persona fell away and she was instantly just a concerned lover. 

“I most certainly do  _ not, _ my love,” he said, his voice low and gruff. 

Tiona laughed, lips pressing to his forehead, leaving behind another gloss-stain. She stepped forward, closer this time, and Roger wasn't certain if the way her piece gently rubbed against his aching cock was deliberate, but it was certainly enough to make him groan. Letting go of her hands, he gripped the piece and pushed forward, working the opposite end of it deeper inside her. 

She  _ growled _ , catching him by surprise. He looked up, locking eyes with her, and she immediately slapped his hands away with a gasp. Gritting her teeth, she shook her head and stepped back. 

“It's not about me this time,” she said, her voice low, deadly, and as far as Roger was concerned, deliciously sexy. “It's about you. So. Ditch the robe and lie down already.”

He couldn't resist obeying. Not with how she was staring at him with her glowing, featureless red eyes. He'd been with her long enough to get a feel for her expressions, and right now she was looking at him like she was going to either kiss him or slap him. Still, he doffed the robe and clamored onto the bed. 

Tiona's grin was wide, and she retrieved the bottle on the bed before climbing atop it to join him, pushing his knees apart before kneeling between them. She sat there, casually dispensing some of the bottle’s contents into the palm of her hand, and then coating the fingers of her other hand with it. They came away glistening, and she dealt Roger another one of those wicked, playful grins. “Relax - I won't be able to make you scream if you don't.”

He nodded, breathing raggedly as he laid back against the pillows, his erection now prominent and unobstructed and  _ aching _ with need. Tiona seemed disinterested in doing much with it for the moment; rather, she spread his legs apart, reaching and teasing, slick fingers playing against his ass. 

A moan all but tore through him, unbidden and almost uncontrollable. He'd not expected this to feel as thrilling and  _ good _ as it was _ ,  _ and as if on reflex he bucked his hips upward --

Tiona let out a surprised gasp, grinning as one of her long, dexterous fingers slid easily inside of him, and laughing lowly when she gently worked against him and he let out a sharp groan that trailed off into a needy whimper. 

“You're sure you've never done this before?” she said, conversationally, working her finger back and forth, a pleased smile on her face. 

For a moment Roger could do nothing but lay there, his face red, glistening with sweat, his legs shaking. She always broke him down into something base and animalistic, and he always loved it, but he found this to be so intense and so  _ new _ that he couldn't speak, only shake his head. 

“You're certain?” She drew back, reaching for the bottle again, more of the lubricant being dispensed so that she could introduce another finger to the mix, still carefully working him open. “Cause you're taking to this like a champ.”

“I… try,” Roger responded, voice thick with surprised satisfaction, lifting his hips off the mattress again, to bring her fingers deeper into himself. The sensation of being filled was strange, albeit pleasant with Tiona's natural warmth and experienced strokes causing his body to shudder and his cock to ache as though he was not in control of himself. “It wouldn't do if I - nngh - disappointed you.”

“You won't,” she said lowly, grinning as he slowly - and possibly unconsciously - bucked against her hand. She seemed content to let him do so, until he worked his way down to her knuckles, his legs trembling once more. “But it's not,” she repeated, “about me.” She thrust her fingers deep, reasserting control with the intent to test his readiness.

Only once, and that firmly, pressing inside him just  _ so _ , and Roger saw stars, pleasure roiling through him from the tip of his cock, now glistening copiously with precum, to the tips of his toes, which curled as his back arched. He wasn't certain if the sensation of Tiona's fingers or the knowledge he was all but powerless in this position held the greater appeal. 

But he did know that he wanted more. 

“I -” His eloquence was  _ gone _ ; she'd coaxed him into that primal state that she always did, but even now he felt like she'd pushed him further still.  “I want… “ He lifted his head, staring straight into her red eyes, brow furrowed as he tried to find the words. 

Tiona's eyes flashed; their dull glow momentarily brightening as she smiled, slowly pulling back and out of him, reaching for the bottle once more. She wore a knowing grin as she straightened up, now preparing the piece, all without ever looking away from Roger. 

“Tell me,” she whispered, her voice husky and her gaze so intent that he could swear it was burning him, “exactly what you want. No half- answers. No euphemisms.”

She was so close, one hand gently cradling his thigh and he was so lost in that primal desire she had brought out of him, that it was easy for him to comply.  “I want you to take that piece, Ti, and bloody well screw the hell out of me.”

Tiona laughed, nodding as she slowly leaned over him, her lips playing against the pulse hammering in his throat. After lavishing attention there for a few minutes, she then pulled back to look into his bright green eyes, watching their colour darken. 

“That will be easy,” she said, her voice soft enough that he could barely hear it over the sound of his breathing. Her plush lips brushed against his before she sat back, grinning at him. “Sit up against the headboard. I want you to be able to  _ watch _ me screw the hell out of you.”

Roger moved back, almost scrambling, quirking a brow as Tiona maneuvered one of the spare pillows under his hips, but saying nothing, just watching as she came forward, the piece still right where she'd put it. It looked completely ridiculous, and yet the closer it (and she) moved, the more appealing he found it. She nudged his thighs apart once he was settled and took it in hand, slowly teasing his entrance with it. His hips bucked up and he felt his cock throb. “You're a tease, my dear.”

“Am I?” She thrust forward, hilting the piece inside him with a pleased gasp of her own. It was entirely drowned out by his loud groan, which trailed off into a needy whimper. “I needed to get you  _ ready _ .” Tiona set a pace right away, her hips expertly rolling back and forth. 

Being worked open so decisively was ecstatic, Roger realised. The sensation was odd, to be certain, but Tiona's careful insistence as to his readiness seemed to be paying dividends. There was no pain, no discomfort - just the weight of her against him and the satisfying sensation within. Nothing she'd ever done to him before felt like  _ this.  _ Waves of pleasure wracked his entire body with each thrust and he found himself letting out a moan each time she pulled back. Swallowing thickly, he closed his eyes, to drink it all in --

“Look into my eyes,” Tiona said, curt and abrupt and  _ commanding,  _ “when I fuck you.” When that bright green gaze of his was back on her face, she grinned, thrusting just a little harder. “Good man.”

Roger cried out, the sight and sensation sending another wash of pleasure from his gut to his brain. His still-erect cock and her breasts, clothed only in translucent lace, bobbed in time with each roll of her hips, visible on the periphery of his vision. She was  _ close,  _ in complete control, and eventually, staring into her softly glowing eyes became too much and he leaned forward to put his hands on her shoulders, pressing his forehead to hers. “I love you,” was all he could say. 

Tiona did not swat his hand away; rather, she let go of his thighs and took his face in her hands, her featureless eyes locking with his again as she pulled back to look at him. “I love you too.” The tenderness hung in the air a moment before her grin turned playful. “And I love how good you look when I do this…”

By now he'd wound his legs around her waist as much as he could and was actively bucking against her. The new sensation was overwhelming to the point where he was on the cusp of losing control. His fingers dug into her blue skin, and his breathing started to shallow out. “Ti,” he gasped, “please.”

She took to thrusting harder, moving her hips faster as if on reflex after hearing his plea. “Don't be vague, babe,” she chided. 

His face was furiously red, and his speech uncharacteristically fragmented as the tension inside him continued to build. “I want -- want you to touch me. Make me come.”

The smile on her face was equal parts tender and lustful as she wrapped long, elegant, callused fingers around his aching cock and began to stroke in time with her thrusts.  He'd been clearly wound up, it took only a few seconds before he came, that tension peaking in his entire body and then wracking him with pleasure as he spilled against himself. Roger felt like he'd been winded, and for a moment he rested back against the headboard, heart pounding and body limp. 

Tiona drew back from him gently, hopping off the bed with a satisfied hum. She quickly removed the piece and harness, doffed her lace top and picked up a towel, handing the latter over to Roger before stretching out languidly beside him. Turning slightly, she propped her head on her hand and smiled. 

“So,” she said, watching him clean himself up and toss the towel to the floor, “what's the verdict?”

He grinned, going slightly red in the face, shimmying down until he was lying in the bed next to her. “It was incredible.  _ You're  _ incredible.” He reached to run fingers through her hair, smiling as he rolled her on her back so that he could cuddle against her. He felt - not weak, not enfeebled, but a satiated kind of exhausted, ready to hold her and possibly sleep. 

“Good,” Tiona murmured, running fingers through his hair and holding him close. “But I need you to promise me one thing.”

“Anything you need.” He quirked a brow curiously in her direction, moving a hand to gently cradle her breast. 

“Promise me I'm not gonna lose out on… well, dick.” She looked utterly serious. 

“And why on earth would you think you would? This was delightful, but hardly the sort of thing you can make me do in the ops room.” He couldn't suppress his laughter. “No, I don't say I'd ever turn down an opportunity to be inside  _ you,  _ my love.”

She squeezed him tightly before reaching to pull the covers over the two of them. “... Excellent,” she said very quietly. “I wasn't quite that lucky the last time I wore one of those.”

“I've not made a habit of being selfish in bed,” he said gently, reaching up to stroke his thumb across her full lips. “And you deserve to be pleased as often as I can manage to do it.”

Tiona sat up slightly. “Well,” she said, directing his hand back to her breast, running his fingers against her nipple and shuddering as he took the hint and gently coaxed it to hardness, rubbing the pad of his thumb in circles against its tip, “you've got fingers and a mouth, right?”

He gasped softly, feeling her breast firm up under his touch. “I do…”

**Author's Note:**

> DT Maxwell (Draya) gave me the prompt and JeanSchramme plays the other guy in our roleplay. I thank them both for their grace and patience! I am Not Fast.


End file.
